


A long day ends

by Eule



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Sleepovers, Take-Out, Tired Musketeers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:02:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24577987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eule/pseuds/Eule
Summary: They are hungry, tired and unhurt. The last one none of them took for granted.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 20





	A long day ends

**Author's Note:**

> I read BloodFromTheThornes "The Agents" while writing on a story for Hsg (who wanted hurt Athos and will get that, after I finish tiping eleven pages of handwriting) and this is what happened shortly after... So its fluffy and a Modern AU from a story not posted yet but coming soon. Maybe a bit wooden, but I wanted it out of my head and am sorry for that!

„You look rough“ D’Artagnan stated and looked them over with critical dark brown eyes.  
“Tell us something new” Porthos replied and put a big bag with take-away food in his arms, the younger man sacked a little bit under the added weight, but was capable to make room in the small entrance to let them in, close the door and follow the three agents to the living room; where Constance was busy to get everyone as comfortable as possible without Athos telling her she shouldn’t fuss. She eyed the amount of food D’Artagnan loaded on the couch table skeptically and turned around to grab more dishes.

The two Technicians had joined today’s mission for direct support, which was a rare occurrence. Normally they did the research before the Agents go into the field, but sometimes they had to work parallel. Gaining information and adding them to whatever they had found out before to get a better view for the whole scenario.  
The operation had been successful, the drug dealer who thought himself far more important than he actually was sat in custody. As far as D’Artagnan understood he knew one of the bigger fishes in the pond and could provide useful in the future. The whole operation took about 16 hours, Athos was on active duty for about 36 hours by now; according to the computer system at the Garrison he had been there the whole time. Technically this was information he wasn’t allowed to have, but D'Artagnan cared for his team and so he didn’t really care about the consequences should someone find out that he was checking in on them, even if he was quite sure no one did, because he was good at his job and at hiding his traces; that is what they payed him for actually. But not only through inofficiall information he knew, that all of them were tired and exhausted and would probably drop on the spot as soon as their front doors close, and so he had arranged this sleepover at Constance, so everyone would actually eat and sleep in a proper bed in clean clothes. 

Constances thoughts seemed to go in the same direction, because she returned with more dishes and asked: “Gentlemen, first shower and then something to eat or the other way round?”  
Aramis sighted in defeat and answered for all of them. “Shower first, don’t know if we will get up again after dinner. Come on guys and don’t think about starting without us!”  
So the three of them vanished in direction of the bathroom, leaving the other two behind to prepare dinner.

Porthos and Aramis were the first to return, lounging themselves on one of the two sofas, bickering about who would get the thick woolen blanket, even if it was clear that Porthos had absolutely no interest in it, but had a lot of fun pretending to do so. 

“You’ve drowned Athos?” Constance interrupted them. “Or did he fell asleep on the bathroom rug?”

“If he isn’t back in five minutes I would say the latter or he drowned himself while falling asleep in the shower. He is beyond tired, but give him another moment or two.”

“For what, drowning?” Athos asked dryly, leaning in the doorway casually, wet hair dripping onto his shirt, eyes at half-mast and voice raspy from yelling orders all day and sleep deprivation. 

Aramis grinned. “Good we didn’t make a bet, I would have lost, thought you weren’t capable of joining us again. But now that you are here, let us eat!”

He tried to get up and grab a dish helping himself to some food, when Porthos pushed him back into the cushions and stood. He grabbed the towel Aramis had abandoned on the backrest of their sofa earlier and made his way to Athos, who had settled himself in an armchair. He wrapped the towel around Athos head and dried his to long curls as gentle as possible. The older man relaxed further into the seat, eyes closed and breathing slowed down so much, that Constance thought him asleep until he proofed her wrong.

“You’re… you try to make me sleep, so you’ve got more food for yourself” he mumbled and Porthos laughed merrily.  
“Don’t think the amount of food you call a meal will satisfy anyone of us. It is more likely the wine we prefer.”  
Athos only hummed and smiled. 

As Aramis made his next attempt for his well-earned evening meal -after he had untangled himself from the blankets and cushions Porthos had pushed him into- he got a cold and wet towel into his face.  
“Ey! What was that for?” he all but squeaked and glared half-heartedly at Porthos who grabbed a dish and helped himself to the Italian take-out, a smug expression on his face.  
Aramis mumbled something about ungrateful teammates you lay in the cold and dirt for all day, dropped the towel and joined Porthos on the self-made buffet.

When all of them had their first round of food, they sat in companionable silence for a while. It had been a good day; a long, hard, cold and nerve-wracking day, but a good one nonetheless. They were all unhurt and had done their job as professional and effective as possible without more damage done than absolutely necessary.

And then Athos fell asleep with half of his garlic bread still uneaten and his glass of wine untouched. Aramis spared one of his blankets and spread it over the sleeping form of their Lieutenant and was oblivious to the fondness in the eyes of the others, while he tucked the older man in. Athos stirred at the touch, but Aramis spoke softly to him, stroking a stray lock of dark hair out of his face, frowning slightly as Athos settled down once more.

“Stop frettin’” Porthos rumbled over his third fill.  
“He is warm” Aramis protested, still frowning.  
“Let him be, he had a hot shower, is asleep and it’s quite warm in here. And even if he is running a fever” he continued before Aramis could argue “Let him sleep it off. He had been on the line for about 40 hours, he’s exhausted. He fell asleep while eating, in an armchair with all of us around ‘Mis. Be grateful he hadn’t slipped away after the shower but trusted us enough to risk this happening and then actually let it happen. You can fuss about him tomorrow. Now come and eat before D’Artagnan grabs everything for himself.”

D’Artagnan stopped mid move and starred open mouthed at Porthos. “I… You! I’ve only had my second plate! You had your third or fourth!” he spluttered and Porthos grin widened.  
“Someone has to eat Athos’ share.”  
“Yeah, but who said it has to be you mon-ami?” Aramis chimed in and soon the three of them were eating directly from the table, a sleeping Athos and a highly amused Constance completely forgotten. She cradled her glass of wine in one hand and pulled the full bottle closer to herself with the other, while watching the three men and thought gladly about Athos share of wine none of the others would want and so she hadn’t had to share one single drop of it.

**Author's Note:**

> And another update to "Lost and Found": it is nearly done! I am writing the last chapter down as fast as possible, it is already outlined, than tiping, editing what I can and posting it here immediately afterwards. And after that I will open a bottle of wine, close my eyes and never look at it again :D


End file.
